


Illusion

by silverhuntress101



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drug Use, Gen, POV Dean Winchester, Post-Hell Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:13:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25237507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverhuntress101/pseuds/silverhuntress101
Summary: A little look at the boys when Dean was in hell and Sam was alone with Ruby. How the many lies and time apart is hurting them both.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Illusion

**Author's Note:**

> A little disclaimer that I love both the boys equally and even though it might not seem like it they are both hurting the same. So no hate! Thank you for reading my lovelies.

The sunlight coming through the diner window lights Sam’s brown hair into gold, his eyes were always this strange hazel shade and right now they look honey brown. Sam isn’t looking at Dean so he takes the chance to study his brother. He still has that same frown when he is researching, the same puppy eyes which turns all the ladies into putty; but there is an edge to him now. A razor blade. Get too close to him and it will leave you bleeding. Lately that’s all what Dean has been feeling around his brother. Sam isn’t the only one who is different though. After Dean came back from hell, he doesn’t really know what to do anymore. Doesn’t really know how to function. Seems like hell burned his essence away, he feels like a bottom of a whiskey bottle. A mockery of who Dean Winchester used to be. They feel different too. Their bond. There is an ocean between them now. Doesn’t matter how hard they try to fight the tide, they keep getting swept away by the lies. His brother might be sitting a feet away from him but he might as well be on the other side of the world.

Sam looks up at him and slides his eyes away. Dean’s heart constricts. A wave of panic goes through him, his heart hurts. He wants to shake his brother, he wants to fix this but he doesn’t know how to. Doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know if he should grovel for forgiveness or make Sam beg for his forgiveness. That’s what happens, when the person you need the most is also ripping your chest out. What do you do then? Do you forgive and forget? Or do you just sit there with the open wound on your soul letting the other person scrape bits of it away? For the first time in his life he wants to run. Run away from his brother, run away from the knife Sam keeps pushing in him. He stands up abruptly and gestures at the washroom, Sam barely lifts his head. Sam is so, so far away.

Dean makes his way to the backdoor instead of the washroom and finds himself in a narrow alleyway. The alleyway is littered with cigarette butts and bottles. So filthy. Filthy like the blood in his hands and the words on his tongue. Filthy like his soul. He leans against the wall and closes his eyes. His mind is buzzing, his thoughts are running like the impala on an open highway. He wants a hunt, he wants to kill something and he wants to bleed. Bleed his pain away.

His eyes snap open when he hears something. Two guys are at the mouth of the alleyway talking in hushed voices. One guy passes a wad of bill and the other guy tucks a pouch in his pocket. Not subtle at all. Dean pushes himself off the wall and makes his way to the guy dealing. He seems to be in his mid twenties, his black eyes widen in panic and Dean tries to smile.

“Hey, hey, no need to worry there. I was just wondering if I could get some of what you are selling.” The words are out of his mouth before his head could even register what happened. But as soon as it’s out he feels eager, peaceful. Make it go away, his mind whispers to him. The guy laughs.

“Sheesh, man, thought you were gonna get me into trouble. How much do you need?”

Dean yanks a 100 dollar bill out of his pocket and hands it over.

“As much as this can give me.”

His hands are shaking when the guy leaves, the silver foil clutched in his palm. He is sitting on the ground, his left boot open beside him. He opens it with care, careful not to spill the little brown granules. He clicks his lighter on and lets the granules melt. Then taking out needle he bought, he fills it. He only has a moment’s hesitation but then the ache in his soul throbs. He pushes the plunger in between his toes and everything fades. The pain, the ache, the thoughts. He can breathe for what feels like in forever. Not a single thing on his mind giving him anxiety. If the world ends tomorrow, he could care less. When he walks back to the booth, he is worried Sam would know. Sam looks up from his laptop, Dean thinks he might say something, notice something. _Look at me, see me, don’t you see what’s happening to me?_ He just wants his brother to see him. Sam looks back down without a word. It doesn’t even hurt him this time. Everything is protected, _he_ is protected. Nothing can hurt him now. It seems like hell has never let him go, it has come to greet him like an old friend. Dean touches the pouch in reassurance. This time, he welcomes the fire with open arms.


End file.
